Other than the rain, no misshapes occurred on the way back to the yacht.
With his bare back facing Tian Cheng, Long Hua asks—
"Well? What do you see?"
"Probably better to see it for yourself, master."
Snapping a photo, Tian Cheng passes the phone over.
"…"
Looking at the photo, Long Hua frowns.
Around his right shoulder blade, scale patterns had appeared.
(So, this is the price then?)
Tossing the phone aside, Long Hua picks up a T-shirt, and dresses himself before turning around, and directing his eyes at the floor—where two piles of metal are present.
To avoid drawing unwanted attention from Bai Wen and Zhen Huai, Long Hua had held off on repairing Kun and Bai Zhe until now.
Crouching down, and looming his hands over the two metal piles, Long Hua mutters—
"Tai Xuan."
Simultaneously, the two metal piles begin to glow, and similarly to clay, the two piles mold themselves into the shape of swords.
As one of the light shrouds—covering one of the swords, dissipates, Kun, that is fully repaired is revealed.
Following Kun's restoration, the light shroud—that covers Bai Zhe, dissipates a few seconds after.
Picking up Bai Zhe, and holding it in his hand to get a feel for it, the sword gives off a pressure of energy that rivals Kun's—meaning, it is now a Foundation Establishment realm magic treasure.
(I should have done this earlier, really…)
Storing Bai Zhe into its belt sheath, Long Hua places it to the side—before storing Kun into a blue drawstring pouch.
Compared to his storage pouch, this one is smaller in storage space—about the size of a two-door garage.
The upside to this storage pouch, however, is its ability to be opened without spirit Qi—making it suitable for Tian Cheng to use.
"Tai Xuan."
Holding the Jing mask—that was given to him by Zhen Huai, Long Hua mutters the same phrase as before, causing its form to change into a taotie mask.
Knocking on the mask, Long Hua gets the impression that it is made from metal, and satisfied with its durability, he throws it into his storage pouch.
Listening to the sound of the rain—hitting the yacht's deck, Long Hua takes out his final two bottles of cherry blossom wine from his storage pouch.
"Do you plan to drink, master?"
"It's raining and thundering, I'd say it's as good of a time as any."
Turning around, and grabbing a drinking glass, Tian Cheng picks up one of the bottles, and asks—
"Shall I pour for you then?"
"Please."
Taking the glass, Long Hua reaches it out to Tian Cheng, who pours the wine for him—before sitting down beside him.
"The wine Lao Bai ordered was quite good, but I still prefer this."
Taking a sip of the wine, Long Hua smiles with faint satisfaction, as the sour taste of the beverage gradually sweetens.
(Come to think of it. This was Dao He Tian Xue's favorite wine as well.)
Just as Tian Cheng thought of this—
"Thousand years of time, gone… With the last strand of hair. Who stands beneath the tree of yesteryear—when the immortal visits old haunts? The house is gone, and the lands—are devoid of what was familiar. Drown in sorrow as the immortal will. But what is lost, shall never be returned."
Reciting aloud the poem that he had made up in his mind, Long Hua downs the cup.
"Master, are you planning to drink yourself to sleep?"
Opening her eyes, Tian Cheng notices how the alcohol—that is being downed by Long Hua, isn't being dissolved by his cultivation base.
"Just for tonight, I want to drink myself to sleep."
Being able to get drunk is a mortal's luxury.
As one's cultivation base increases, it becomes increasingly more difficult for a practitioner to get drunk off wine.
"I see."
Refilling his glass, Tian Cheng doesn't say another word.
"The world is kind, but human hearts are cruel. In the Rivers and Lakes, fallen swords are gravestones, markers—that symbolize the end of a warrior's tale. A sword and a brush, to write out the epilogue of yesteryear's enemies—along with my own. A white-haired man bids farewell to a black-haired youth. I had a good shizun, but was I a good disciple?"
As rain continues to fall, Long Hua continues to drink, while reciting aloud whatever lines of poetry that he can come up with in his head.
"Wine in hand, soft rain above my roof. Sour at first taste, sweet—with the dissipation of its scent. The wine tastes the same, yet, where are those—who I had shared its taste and scent with, gone?"
Eventually, the first bottle of wine is finished, while only a quarter of the second bottle remains.
As Long Hua finishes his current glass, Tian Cheng pours the remaining wine into the vessel—before setting the emptied bottle onto the ground.
"I…"
Narrowing his eyes, Long Hua's vision begins to blur.
"I'm afraid… Of not being able to get out of this realm. …I'm afraid of… Whatever curse shizun had mentioned… I'm afraid of stumbling… And falling on the path… I chose. I'm afraid… Of shizun… Not being there to give me advice… I'm… Afraid of my… Cultivation base… Not being able to progress… Quick enough."
Downing the final glass, Long Hua's grip loosens, but before the glass could fall, Tian Cheng catches it.
"...…I'm afraid of… Not being able to return home…"
Saying this, Long Hua falls back onto the bed
Judging by the steady rate of his breathing, he had fallen asleep.
(Ai, a lot more honest when drunk.)
Placing the glass to the side, Tian Cheng rises from the bed—to dispose of the bottles.